Maybe There's Enough Blue Skies
by complex-yet-simple
Summary: Pirate!AU. Royal Navy Captain Oliver Queen was stranded at sea and was found by the pirate ship, Aurora.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Previously just a drabble, but I got a good response. I changed some characters to fit my idea for a multi-chapter story. A brand new chapter will be posted in a couple of days.**

* * *

Perched on the crow's nest high above the ship's deck, he could see the clear horizon all the way around him. The sea was calm and flat, the glassy surface reflecting the sun. Above him, black flag of their ship danced with the wind.

His watchful eyes picked up a small black smudge far ahead of them, but he was unable to make it out. His hand groped around behind him until it found the telescope that was lashed securely to the mast. He untied it and squinted through the slightly dirty lens. The smudge was revealed to be a small boat, most likely a lifeboat. There were people on it, although they didn't appear to be moving. He dropped the scope and commenced clanging the bell that hung on the basket to alert whoever was on duty below.

"What the hell are you ringing that thing for, Barry!" Diggle yelled up at the other man.

"Looks like there's a lifeboat ahead! Three, maybe four passengers, I can't tell if they're alive!"

"Shit! What a way to start my day," Diggle muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I'll go let the Captain know!"

"Better tell Doc too!" Barry responded.

Diggle waved him off and went below decks to the mess hall, where he hoped to find his captain.

A mixture of smells, mostly bad, greeted him as he stepped into the narrow dining area. Slade was serving up something that vaguely resembled porridge. He felt bile rise at the sight of the lumpy gray substance.

"What the fuck is that?" He asked the "cook." Slade turned and gave Diggle a horrible glare.

"What the hell does it look like?" he asked grumpily, stomping back towards the galley.

"Vomit," he replied. His eyes widened and he ducked, barely managing to avoid the knife that had been aimed at his head.

"Then don't eat it!" Slade bellowed as he slammed through the kitchen door. Diggle could hear the man's parrot squawking rude words at him through the door.

"John, if you can't say anything nice, then don't speak," his Captain admonished as she poked uneasily at the porridge.

"Why is he our cook? The only thing he can do is drink," Diggle replied irritably, momentarily forgetting why he was down in the galley.

"Because I keep my word," she replied, putting down her spoon. "Besides, how else do you think I can maintain this girlish figure?"

Diggle simply rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing down here, anyway? Aren't you up a little early?" the young captain asked with an arched eyebrow.

"I lost the dice game last night and ended up with the dog watch." He replied. "Which reminds me, Barry spotted a floater with some bodies."

"Alive?" she asked.

"Can't tell. Maybe."

"Go find Carly and tell her to be ready to handle some survivors. They'll probably be dehydrated or half-starved, and the sun might have made them a bit delirious." She rose from her seat, leaving her porridge untouched. "I'll go up top."

Diggle nodded. "Will do, Captain," he said with a smart salute and a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. "For God's sake, John, you know perfectly well that when none of the crew's around, you can call me Felicity!"

He grinned. "Sure thing, Captain."

* * *

Royal Navy Captain Oliver Queen was trapped in a nightmare. He was drowning. He had failed Laurel, failed in the one task she had asked of him, to take care of her sister. Suddenly, Oliver was looking into the accusing eyes of his former fiancée.

"You couldn't even do this one thing for me, Oliver?" she asked him angrily. Her hair floated around her chalk-white face.

He tried to yell, beg her to forgive him, but the air was gone from his lungs, he couldn't breathe.

"Hey, easy... easy," a low voice murmured.

He opened his eyes and discovered that he wasn't drowning. He couldn't really see; everything in the room was blurry and indistinct. He tried to ask a question, but his tongue felt as though it was made of lead.

He swallowed, tried again, and failed. Something was pressed against his lips and he realized it was a cup. Sweet water, the best water he had ever tasted, poured into his mouth. He drank as though he was afraid he would never have water again.

He cleared his throat and managed a few words. "Where is Sara?" he croaked.

"Sara? The blonde? She's fine," the voice answered.

He felt relief flow through him like the water had moments earlier. "She's okay?"

"Yes. She's in the galley, eating dinner. Do you want to see her?"

"Let her eat," he whispered hoarsely. He swallowed, exhausted by the effort it took to form words. "Where am I?"

"Aboard a ship. We found your life raft yesterday."

"What ship?" Oliver managed to say. His vision was hazy. The person tending to him was no more than a collection of shadows. He was exhausted.

"The Aurora."

Oliver was slipping rapidly back into unconsciousness. The reply stuck in his mind. "Auro..." he murmured. Something told him that this was dangerous, that he should be worried. But his body paid no heed to his mind. He was simply too exhausted to care. In the back of his mind, he knew that when he woke up, there would be a problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Whoa! I have never seen anyone eat Slade's cooking with that much enthusiasm before," Diggle observed as he watched the Sara shovel food into her mouth.

"They do say that hunger is the best sauce," the woman next to him observed dryly.

Diggle glanced at her. "Carly, there is no sauce on earth that can make that man's food edible."

She smiled. "Perhaps not. But don't forget that she was in a life boat for nearly a week with only about a day's worth of rations."

Slade stomped out of the kitchen with a steaming cauldron full of something unidentifiable. "Want more?"

Sara nodded, "Please." Slade slopped some of the concoction onto the plate.

"This here is my specialty. Stew." The one-eyed chef said proudly, seemingly overjoyed to find someone who would eat his cooking without becoming violently ill.

Sara didn't care what it was. She shoveled it in as fast as Slade could put it on the plate.

When she had gotten her fill, she politely thanked the cook. Slade grunted and made to clear away the table.

"Having fun in here?"

Everyone turned towards the door where Felicity stood.

"Captain, this is the young woman we saved," Diggle said by way of introduction.

"I gathered that, Digg," she said with a tinge of sarcasm.

Sara, meanwhile, was goggling at Felicity. "She's the captain?" she asked.

Felicity put her hands on her hips. "Yes. I am," she replied.

Felicity was wearing black, loose fitting pants that were held up with a wide black leather belt. Her shirt was white linen with tiny mother of pearl buttons. She wore a crimson colored velvet vest, fastened only halfway up with ivory toggles and shiny black boots. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and secured with a red ribbon. To complete her ensemble, a very large sword hung at her waist in an ornately decorated sheath.

"I've never met a woman captain before."

"You wouldn't have. I'm the only one. Not that I've met all the captains in the world. I'm just assuming I'm a special case. Not that I think I'm special or anything- Never mind." Felicity stopped her ramble. Digg and Carly were trying to hold their amusement in.

She turned her attention to Carly. "Sin says that the other survivor is awake. You should probably go look after him."

Carly nodded and left the room quickly.

Digg stood. "What about me? Anything to do?"

A dark expression crossed Felicity's face. "I think we've put off dealing with Mathis long enough, Digg," she said quietly.

Digg frowned. "I was kinda hoping you'd just let him rot down in the brig."

"He knew the rules and he broke them. If I don't punish him, what kind of message will that send to the crew? You, of all people, know that I walk a very narrow line with them. One misstep and I'll lose their respect. Mathis will be an example to the men, a reminder of what happens when they disobey me."

Her first mate and long-time friend sighed. "I guess I'll go round him up then."

"Please do, and make sure all the men are on deck when I deal with him." Felicity said, "I don't want to have to do this again." Digg nodded grimly and left.

Sara watched this exchange, not sure what she was hearing.

Felicity looked down at the younger woman, her hard expression vanishing. "Sara, why don't you keep Slade company in the galley?" She indicated for her to stand, and guided her to the next room.

* * *

Oliver was sitting up in bed, sipping a bowl of broth when Carly entered his room.

"Good to see you're finally awake," she greeted him with a smile.

He put down the bowl and bowed his head politely. "May I have the honor of requesting your name, Miss?" he asked.

Carly giggled. "Ah, I see we've rescued a gentleman. What a nice change."

Oliver looked up at her and blinked, slightly confused.

She giggled again. "I'm sorry. My name is Carly Reynolds. I'm this ship's physician."

"It is an honor to meet you, Dr. Reynolds. My name is Oliver Queen."

It was her turn to look surprised. "Captain Oliver Queen?" she asked carefully.

He nodded. "You know of me?"

She laughed out loud and plopped her medical supplies on his bed. "Do you know where you are, Captain Queen?"

"Someone told me, but I'm afraid I was rather out of my head at the time." He replied warily.

"Well, let me refresh your memory. You were rescued by the Aurora. I suppose you can guess why I know your name."

"The pirate ship, Aurora?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

"I see." He frowned down at his hands, which were neatly folded on his lap.

Somewhere above them, there was the sound of scuffling and yelling. Carly looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I suppose it has begun."

"What?" he asked, momentarily distracted from his musing.

"One of our men is being punished." She shook her head. "It promises to be rather unpleasant."

"Shouldn't you be up there then?" Oliver asked.

Carly shook her head. "I only deal with the live ones."

* * *

Diggle, with the help of two other men, dragged the struggling, screaming Barton Mathis to the deck. The entire crew was assembled. The three sailors roughly deposited the prisoner onto the deck in front of Felicity. He tried to get up, but she placed a boot on the back of his neck and held him in place.

"Mathis, do you know why you're here?" she asked quietly. The men who surrounded her watched, but did not make a sound.

"Fuck off!" he roared, still struggling to get up.

She ground her heel into his neck and he stopped moving.

"Incorrect." Very deliberately, she drew her sword, the rasping of the blade against the sheath sending shivers down Mathis' spine.

"You are here, Mathis, because you broke some rules." She rested the tip of the sword on the deck, inches away from his face. He was sweating heavily, the liquid running into his eyes, causing them to water.

"We have some very simple rules aboard this ship," she continued. "Everyone knows that if you break a rule, you're punished. If you break some more, then you're punished some more. You broke two rules." She lifted her boot off of his neck and gestured for Diggle and the others to pick him up.

"You raped a girl. Not just a girl, a child, really. She was eleven. Then, as if your first crime was not enough, you killed her in cold blood to hide your crime." She turned to one of her sailors, "Barry, what rules did Mathis break?" She asked.

"We are not supposed to rape women or harm children." Barry replied, fingering one of the many swords that hung at his waist and shoulders. He did not like what the man had done, not at all. Felicity had stopped him from administering his own punishment right after Mathis had been discovered. He was looking forward to the man's long-awaited sentence. The captain would probably not show as much mercy as he might have.

"And he did both, didn't he?" Felicity asked, her voice quiet, almost conversational.

Barry nodded. "He did, Captain."

She paced the deck. "Digg, what is the punishment for rape?" Felicity asked him, her hands clasped behind her, one hand still holding the sword.

The well-built man answered as though she asked him a question about his hobbies or the weather. "First offense, you lose a hand, second offense, you die."

She paced some more. "Sin," she said, stopping in front of the small woman. "What is the punishment for harming a child?"

Sin glared daggers at Mathis. "For hitting or otherwise injuring a child, you lose an ear. For killing a child, you die."

Felicity nodded. "Men, we are presented with a unique situation here. This is Mathis' first offense on this ship. A first offense rape would cost him his hand. However, he killed a child, which means death." She paused and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "It wouldn't be fair to the child for me to only punish him once, wouldn't you all agree?"

There was a rumble through the crew as they nodded or voiced their agreement. Even pirates have some standards, and the men aboard the Aurora had more standards than most. Their captain walked slowly back over to where Mathis cowered, his sweat dripping onto the deck like raindrops.

Suddenly, Mathis screamed in agony. His hand lay on the deck, severed. His wrist spouted blood, the crimson liquid pooling on the immaculate wood. Beside him, Felicity nonchalantly wiped the blood from her sword off on her victim's trousers and then re-sheathed it.

"Well, I've taken care of the rape punishment," she said. She bent down and picked up the gore-spattered hand. All eyes were on her as she walked to the ship's railing and tossed it overboard. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, the water churned as sharks began fighting each other for the bloody hand.

"Diggle, throw him overboard," Felicity said, her voice low with fury. "Let's show him how we deal with rapists and child killers on this ship."

Diggle nodded and tightened his grip on Mathis. The condemned man began to scream, high-pitched wails interspersed with pleas for mercy.

"You want mercy?" Felicity asked coldly. She held up a blood-streaked hand to stop her second-in-command.

The man nodded and cried for her to spare him, all the while desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from his wrist.

"I'll make a deal with you, Mathis," stepping in front of him and looking him straight in the eye. "I'll show you as much mercy as you showed that little girl." She stepped back and gestured for Diggle to continue his grim duty.

Mathis sobbed and continued to plead for mercy as Diggle and two other men hoisted him over the railing and dropped him into the sea. He screamed as he went down. There was a loud splash, a few seconds of silence and then the howls continued, this time, of a man in agony, a man being torn to pieces by hungry sharks. Finally, after a choked gurgle, they stopped.

Felicity turned to her crew, wiping her hands off on a handkerchief as she talked. "I will not tolerate such insubordination. You know the rules and you know the punishment for breaking them." She leveled each man with her gaze. "I trust I won't have to do this again."

The men all seemed to shake their heads in unison. The message had been delivered.

"Good. You are all dismissed. Someone go find a mop and clean this mess up."

Felicity caught the attention of a glum-looking man standing near the helm. "Roy, bring the charts of this area to my cabin. We need to figure out a way to get to Steele's ship before he reaches the next port." The man nodded and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.

Stuffing the bloody handkerchief into her pocket, Felicity frowned and walked slowly to the bow of her ship, resting her hands almost reverently on the prow. She closed her eyes and bowed her head.

Nodding to Barry, who had resumed his post at the helm, Diggle went over to stand by his captain. "Are you okay, Felicity?" he asked in a low voice.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, picking absently at the bow that held her hair away from her face. "That was horrible. The whole thing… that poor little girl…" She shook her head. "I pray to God that I will never have to do that again."

"You've got a good crew here, Felicity." Digg said, his eyes scanning the distant horizon. "Mathis had always worried you, but the others… you trust the others. We've been very careful about who we bring aboard since…"

A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips. "Since Blood. I know, Digg, and you're right. They're good men. I'm lucky."

Oliver leaned against the railing and watched the captain and her first mate as they talked. He had managed to sneak away from Carly and had been present when Felicity punished Mathis. This tiny, fierce woman commanded a ship full of tough men and had their respect. He shook his head slowly. What a strange world he had woken up in. He closed his eyes for a moment and tried to remember everything he knew about the Aurora and its crew.

The pirate ship Aurora was legendary. Its original captain, Edward Smoak, had once been a captain in the Royal Navy. A long-forgotten scandal had brought about his downfall and he had taken to the sea with a small band of misfits and loyal sailors to terrorize anyone who had the misfortune of crossing his bow.

It had never escaped Oliver's notice, or the notice of several important people in the Navy that the ships that were attacked by Smoak had reputations of an unsavory sort. When the captain had waylaid a ship whose purpose was supplying young, innocent, island girls stolen from their families to whore houses on the mainland, and had returned the girls unharmed, he became a legend. A brigand with a heart of gold.

He was still an outlaw, however, and Oliver had been one in the long line of captains assigned to bring him in. He had met the man only once, five years earlier, when their swords were crossed in the heat of battle, but he had not been able to defeat the man and had barely made it off the ship alive.

A rumor had surfaced a few years ago that Smoak had died, the victim of some sort of mutiny aboard his ship. No one knew anything about who had replaced him, all they knew was that the Aurora continued to sail and continued to plunder.

Oliver watched as the young woman with Edward Smoak's eyes spoke softly with her first mate, her features beautiful but strained by sadness. She made a final gesture and then turned to face Oliver.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" she asked as she walked across the deck towards him. She didn't seem surprised by his presence. "You were nearly dead when we fished you out of the sea, Captain Queen."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you know who I am then?"

She smiled slightly. "I remember you. You were the only man who boarded my father's ship uninvited and lived to tell about it."

"You were there?" he asked incredulously.

She grinned mischievously, looking, for the moment, like a carefree young girl rather than the captain of an infamous pirate ship. "Of course. I was born on this ship and I rarely leave it, Captain. I was in the crow's nest while you fought my father. It was almost like a dance, the way you two fought, if that can be said about fighting to the death."

He nodded. "It has been said before."

His mood darkened suddenly and he regarded her with some slight apprehension. "Since you know who I am, should I be worried about sharing the same fate as your sailor Mathis? After all, I am a member of the Royal Navy and we are supposed to be at odds with each other."

Her blue eyes flashed. "Captain Queen, you should only be worried if you are a rapist or a murderer. Are you?"

He shook his head.

"Then you have nothing to fear from me." She took his elbow. "Carly, however, is another matter and she will be quite upset to find you out of bed." Gently, she steered him down the narrow stairs towards his quarters.

"Dr. Reynolds said there were no other survivors?" Oliver asked quietly as she escorted him into his room.

She shook her head. "There was one other man on the lifeboat with you, but he didn't make it. We didn't find anyone else."

He sighed. "A hundred men lost to the sea then," he said sadly.

As he sat down wearily on his bed, she regarded him with a quizzical look. "What were you doing sailing this time of year anyway? I'd have thought you of all people would have more sense, Captain Queen."

He frowned. "I normally wouldn't be sailing, Captain Smoak, but I received an urgent request that could not wait." He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her. "And what about you? What are you doing on the water this time of year, if I may ask?"

She grinned at him. "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, Captain." She turned to leave, but paused at the door. "Just get some rest, okay?" Before he could respond, she was gone, leaving feminine scent and a mystery in her wake. Oliver flopped back onto his bed, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the sun that was pouring through the porthole.

He was a man torn by conflicting agendas. As a Captain in the Royal Navy, he was honor bound to bring Felicity Smoak and the crew of the Aurora to justice, no matter that they had saved his life. However, as a man, he found himself wondering what kind of woman she was, Captain Felicity Smoak.

* * *

**A/N: If anyone knows Carly's maiden name... I made up her last name because it will be so confusing if I also use Diggle as her last name.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

As far as Thea was concerned, duty was the dirtiest four-letter word in her vocabulary.

Duty is what got her into her current unhappy situation. Duty to her family, duty as a member of the female sex. She owed it to them, her father said, owed it to them to go through this joke of a marriage with that octogenarian. She snorted and tossed her brush carelessly onto her dressing table. Owed it to them for what? Eighteen years of constantly being told what to do, what to say, what to think?

"Miss Thea? Captain Steele requests the honor of your presence at his table." Her maid tapped lightly on the door.

Thea frowned at the door. "Fine. Tell the captain that I will join him in a few minutes," she replied testily.

"Do you need help with your dress?" the persistent maid asked.

"No. Just deliver the message please." She hated the old woman, whom she knew had been hired by her parents to spy on her and keep her in line. It was her maid who had told her parents about her secret martial arts lessons, putting an immediate end to them. It was also her maid who told her parents about her clandestine trips to town and the waterfront, which had spurred her father into action, securing this marriage before she could ruin herself, and their hopes for a secure financial future.

Thea wished that she had ruined herself. Then her parents would have disowned her and she would have been free. Maybe she would have died in the gutter, like her father had warned, but at least she would have been free. As she finished lacing up her bodice, her mind wandered and she found herself thinking about Roy Harper, her friend Felicity's hopelessly sexy navigator. She thought about Roy a lot these days, and those thoughts were usually accompanied by the wish that she had ruined herself with him. Blushing furiously, she tied off her bodice with a sloppy knot. Never mind that now. She had to get through dinner what that insufferable Captain Walter Steele and she'd rather not give him any ammo to use against her.

Thoughts of Roy brought her mind back to her current situation, to the letter she had sent her friend Felicity, a letter that begged Felicity to cut short her seasonal vacation and come to her rescue.

As she checked herself in the mirror, she said a quick prayer that her friend had gotten the letter in time. She would wait until this ship, the Marauder, docked. If Felicity hadn't shown up by then to save her…

* * *

Roy was waiting for Felicity when she returned to her cabin after her short talk with Queen. He had spread two charts out on her desk when she plopped down in her chair.

"All right, Harper, how does it look? Can we catch the Marauder?" She studied the lines and crosses he had made on the map.

Roy frowned and finished the calculation. "Just barely, if we have favorable wind conditions for the next few days. They had a two-day head start and we lost time when we stopped to pick up those survivors." He made a notation on the map and sketched in a new set of lines. "If we continue at our present speed, we should catch up with the Marauder in three days."

Felicity tapped the map thoughtfully with her index finger. "Have you discussed the plan with Diggle?"

He nodded. "He was concerned because it's obvious that we are not a packet ship. I agree with him. It would be rather difficult to hide two masts."

Felicity smiled and waved her hand. "Ah, but this time of year, the Navy rarely sends out packet ships. They're too small and don't do well with the sudden winter storms that spring up. It would not be unheard of for the Navy to send out a brigantine such as ours to deliver urgent missives. Of course, they wouldn't send out the Aurora per se, but there are so many different flags for us to choose our identity from." She grinned and stretched lazily. "Our only worry is Steele. If he gets suspicious, then we're in trouble. Of all the damn sea captains for her father to decide to use…"

"Captain, why are you so worried about Miss Thea? An arranged marriage is not pleasant, but it's not really a matter of life or death. We're putting ourselves in considerable danger and I want to know why you had us pull up anchor and chase after her," Roy asked quietly.

She frowned and rested her elbows on the table, drumming her fingers restlessly on the chart in front of her. "So the fact that she is my friend and is being forced against her will to submit to an unpleasant marriage is not reason enough?" Felicity rubbed her chin and pretended to think for a moment. "All right, perhaps I feel empathy for her plight. I am a woman too, after all, and I know what it's like to be forced to submit to a man's will."

Roy shook his head. "There's still something else, Captain. This plan doesn't make sense to me. Why don't we just let her get off Steele's ship and then take her away from her intended husband's home later on or waylay her carriage before it even arrives there? Why risk antagonizing Captain Walter Steele? And why do it when we have his colleague on board?"

"She won't wait until later." Felicity sighed, leaning back in her chair and massaging her temples as though she had a headache.

Roy sat up straighter and pierced his captain with a fierce look. "What are you talking about? What do you know that you won't tell me?"

She regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before replying. "She told me that she'd rather die than marry this man, whoever he is. She's headstrong and foolish, and I'm afraid she just might do it."

Roy ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "That stupid girl," he muttered. "She could just run away, didn't she know that?"

Felicity smiled sadly. "I'm afraid, Roy, that for a woman, running away isn't always an option. It's a dangerous world out there, especially for a woman traveling alone."

He stubbornly refused to give. "She can handle herself, remember how we met her?"

A giggle escaped his captain. "Indeed. I have never seen anyone as shocked as those two men who thought they had found an easy target. Didn't she break the big one's leg?"

Roy shrugged. "I don't know. We didn't stay there long enough to find out."

Felicity nodded. "Well, I do know that I put a crimp in that other one's sex life. I wonder if that tavern owner ever stopped trying to have us arrested? The drawings of me on those wanted posters were really unflattering."

He began rolling up the charts, a frown set on his face, ignoring her musings about her unflattering portrait. "Maybe I could find a faster way to head off the Marauder, a short cut of some kind. The course I've plotted was the most prudent one, but there must be a way to shave some time off my estimate," he said slowly, as he wrapped a worn ribbon around the charts.

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't want to take any chances with Thea's safety, hmmm?" she asked slyly.

A slight blush blossomed on the man's cheeks, but he did not answer. "Do what you think is best, Roy. Just make sure my ship gets there in one piece and on time."

He nodded and made a beeline for the door, obviously eager to get away from her. She smiled and made a mental note to tease him later.

* * *

Despite Carly's protests, Oliver was up and anxious to be moving about the next morning. He had never been one to lie around idly, especially while on a ship.

The sea air and the smell of the ocean always invigorated him. Rather than eating breakfast, he found himself standing topside, watching the ship cleave through the blue water. There were a few sailors on deck that morning. The one called Sin was at the helm, steering idly with one hand while staring into space, a small smile on her lips.

He saw one sailor dumping dirty water over the side and another sailor was industriously scrubbing the deck with a brush and a bucket of sudsy water.

It was a tranquil, calm morning and Oliver felt at peace. His attention was called off the sea, however, when something infinitely more interesting came into his peripheral vision. Felicity.

Today, she was wearing a dress. From beneath a snug fitting black coat, Oliver caught glimpses of fluttering blue cloth that matched the color of her eyes. She paced the deck, stopping to talk to some of the crew. She waved to the person up in the crow's nest and then made her way to Oliver.

"Carly was quite upset with you," she said.

Oliver smiled and turned back to watch the ocean. "I'm sure Dr. Reynolds will forgive me for my impertinence."

Felicity shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. She's very good at holding grudges."

Oliver chuckled and the two stood in companionable silence for a long while before he spoke again.

"Captain Smoak, if you don't mind me asking… what exactly happened to your father? There were rumors, of course, but nothing was ever told the same way twice."

Felicity sighed and looked out at the water, callused fingers fiddling with a loose threat in her coat. "My father always believed in giving people a second chance, Captain Queen, and that is what got him killed."

Oliver frowned and looked at the young woman, who suddenly looked so vulnerable. "I'm sorry."

She nodded, accepting his sympathy with a small, sad smile. "Most of the men on this ship were recruited by my father, I've brought a few on since he's been gone… but the majority of these sailors he found. He had a habit of rescuing people, of giving them the opportunity to better themselves. One of the men he helped was named Sebastian Blood." She took a deep breath, her hands finding and then tightening on the railing until her knuckles were white. "Blood pledged loyalty to my father and worked hard to earn his esteem. But we know now that he was only biding his time. After a while, he had gathered a small but loyal group of men, and one night, in the middle of the ocean, he attempted a mutiny."

She looked upset, and Oliver found himself wanting to comfort her, to tell her that she didn't have to continue, but he knew that she would be offended. Felicity Smoak was a proud woman and would resent his treating her as anything less than an equal. Instead of holding her or taking her hand, or a dozen other things a man could do to comfort a woman, he merely nodded and waited for her to continue.

She cleared her throat. "Blood snuck into my father's cabin and murdered him while he slept because he was too much of a coward to fight him like a man. He then gathered up all the men and told them that his will was law and whoever didn't want to work for him could follow my father's body into the sea."

She smiled bitterly. "Some of the men immediately went over to his side, and he had rounded up the others to kill them when I challenged his authority. I was, after all, the captain's daughter and I felt that my father's betrayal had to be avenged. So, I offered to fight him for control of the ship."

Oliver stared at her, wondering at her bravery. She could not have been more than a teenager when this had happened, and yet, yet… she had stood in front of her father's killer and challenged him. "Did he refuse?" Oliver asked.

Felicity laughed. "Of course not. He was not afraid of a mere girl. He figured that killing me would be the final insult to my father and would clear the way for him to completely take over the ship."

"So what happened?"

Felicity smiled viciously. "I killed him." She glanced at Oliver and paused to brush some wind-tossed hair from her face before continuing. "No man has ever underestimated me and lived, Captain Queen. Sebastian Blood found that out after I stuck my father's sword through his chest." She turned and leaned her back against the railing and he followed her example, unable to tear his eyes away from the shifting emotions on her face.

"Of course, the sailors who had gone over to Blood's side tried to come back, but their cowardice and disloyalty were unforgivable, so they followed Blood into the sea. I've been captain of this ship ever since. That was… three years ago now, I believe."

Oliver shook his head. "You are quite remarkable." He said quietly.

She shook her head. "Not really. I'm just lucky, but thank you anyway for remarking on it."

Oliver opened his mouth to say more, but Diggle appeared from the stairs and waved at Felicity excitedly.

She arched a quizzical eyebrow and walked over to him, Oliver trailing behind her, curious.

"What is it, John?" she asked the excited sailor.

"It's a miracle, is what it is!" he exclaimed. "Come down to the mess room, Captain… you won't believe it." He grabbed her hand and tugged her down the stairs. "You'd better come too." He said to Oliver, who shrugged and followed.

It appeared as though the entire ship, except for the men on the deck, was gathered in the mess quarters. The room was filled with their excited chatter, but that stilled when Diggle dragged Felicity and Oliver in.

"Sit down!" Diggle said, waving them both to an empty bench before disappearing into the galley. The two captains exchanged glances with each other and then sat, still confused. Felicity looked around the mess hall at her crew and realized something was different. In front of every man was a plate and they were eating… some with glee.

Diggle emerged from the galley with two plates of hot food and plopped them down in front of the two slightly confused people. "Eat this, Felicity, it really is a miracle," he said, handing both her and Oliver forks.

Felicity took a small forkful and placed it gingerly between her lips. Beside her, Oliver followed suit.

Felicity's eyes went wide as she slowly chewed and swallowed the food.

"What's wrong with this, Diggle? It tastes perfectly fine to me." Oliver said, taking another bite.

Diggle clapped his hands. "That's just it, Captain, it tastes FINE!"

Oliver threw a confused glance at Felicity, wondering if her first mate had contracted scurvy or had somehow gone mad.

Felicity set down her fork and hastened to explain. "You see, Captain, our cook is… well… he's not actually much of a cook." Behind her, Diggle snorted derisively and she shot him a dirty look before continuing.

"We're not used to such good food aboard this ship." She finished.

"I see." Oliver said carefully. He wondered why she kept on such an inept cook, but he decided that this was not the time, nor the place for such questions.

"Digg, what exactly happened?" his captain asked.

"It was the young lady… Sara cooked." Her first mate replied. "Apparently, ol' one eye had too much rum and passed out, so she made breakfast this morning."

"Sara made this?" Oliver asked.

"Yeah, didn't you know she could cook?" Diggle asked.

Oliver shook his head. "I haven't known her long. Her sister died and left her in my care. We had just been getting to know each other when the storm hit our ship. I don't know a lot of things about her actually."

"Was that your reason for being out this time of year?" Felicity asked.

He nodded, but he caught a glimpse of Sara peeking into the mess hall and decided to go talk to her. "Excuse me for a moment." He said, rising quickly to speak to his ex's younger sister. He needs to get to know his newest charge better, and this might be the first step, however little it may seem, towards that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Maybe There's Enough Blue Skies**

**Chapter 4**

Roy scribbled feverishly on a scrap of paper, hoping that his current set of equations was correct. If it was, then the Aurora could cut half a day from his first estimate and overtake the Marauder well before it docked. He sketched in a new route using a ruler and checked his solution again. It should work. His shoulders slumped with relief. They should get there before Thea had time to do anything stupid.

He threw down his pencil and stretched, working out the kinks in his shoulders from being hunched over the desk for so long. He had been laboring on this problem for several hours, ever since Felicity had told him what Thea intended to do.

He frowned. How could she ever think killing herself was a good idea? It seemed that, since the day they had first met, Thea was forever acting on impulse and emotion, never on logic and common sense.

Common sense dictated that the daughter of a nobleman learn how to embroider or play the piano, not how to drop kick a 200-pound drunken pirate out a plate glass window or pin another guy to a wall with three expertly aimed knives. A land owner's daughter should learn a foreign language and how to serve tea, not how to curse like a sailor and drink alcoholics under the table. He shook his head. She had been trouble from the first day they had met, at a seedy wharf-side tavern where Felicity was conducting business and Thea had gone slumming.

Of course, beautiful, elegant ladies like Thea could not move about unnoticed, even when dressed in rags. That's why those two drunken sailors had accosted her and that's why Felicity had come to her rescue, only to discover that her help wasn't really needed.

After that, Thea had attached herself to their group, going out of her way to meet and befriend them all. However, Roy hadn't missed her particular attentions to him. She was always touching him, brushing his arm or his hand, smiling and batting her big eyes at him.

And then, he found himself noticing little things, like the way she smelled or how she walked with that certain little swish in her step, and how her entire face glowed when she smiled. He rose from his seat and stared out the porthole, not really seeing anything, his thoughts continuing uninterrupted.

He had found himself strangely upset when he had learned of her arranged marriage, and relieved when Felicity had announced plans to rescue her friend. But his anxiety was back again, and this time, he couldn't stop the what-if scenarios from assaulting his mind. What if they were too late? What if there was a storm? What if… what if…

He rested his forehead against the cool glass of the porthole. He couldn't allow himself to dwell on the negative. If he did, then he would go crazy. He had to believe that everything would be all right in the end, that the Aurora would arrive in time, that she would be safe and that he would have more time to explore just what it was about Thea that made his heart beat a little faster than normal. Everything had to be all right, he would not allow himself to consider the alternatives.

* * *

Sara scowled down at the chessboard, her hand hovering uncertainly over the knight piece.

Across from her, Oliver coughed and shook his head slightly. Sara looked up at her new guardian and dropped her hand, her eyes darting around the board to find a more suitable move. After a moment, she slowly moved the rook forward, relief flooding her face when she saw that Oliver nodded slightly.

"I think you're going to beat me this round, Sara." Oliver said warmly, moving a pawn forward.

Sara smiled and dropped her gaze shyly. "I wouldn't be doing so well if you weren't helping me, Mr. Queen."

Oliver shook his head. "I've barely had to do a thing, Sara. You're a natural." He paused and cleared his throat. "And I would prefer it if you called me Oliver. Mr. Queen is much too formal."

"Okay… Oliver." She managed after a moment.

Oliver smiled and returned his attention to the board. Sara had nervously begun contemplating her next move when a loud knock interrupted them.

"Come in!" Oliver called out, his eyes half on the board and half on the door.

The door creaked open and a massive shadow filled its entirety. Before the owner of the shadow could say anything, a large, dull colored parrot flew into the room and settled on the bedpost.

"Hey, assholes!" It chirped gaily. "Fuck off! Fuck off!" It ruffled its feathers as it squawked.

"Shut your trap, Charlie," growled a rough voice from the door, wood thunking against wood as the voice's owner stepped into the room. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Oliver.

"So it's true then. You are here," he drawled.

Oliver stood up so fast, one might have thought his chair was electrified. "You? But… what are you…?" He was too surprised to complete a sentence.

"I see you have yet to master basic speech," Slade grunted. "The years obviously haven't made you any smarter." He peered at Oliver critically for a moment. "But you do seem to have gotten slower."

"I haven't gotten slower. Your perceptions are probably just warped by the large amount of rum circulating through your system!"

Slade snorted. "Whatever. I don't particularly care about why you're here. I came for the girl." He leveled a blunt finger at Sara, who blanched.

"M-m-me?" she stuttered nervously.

Slade nodded and jerked his thumb in the general direction of the galley. "People keep asking me if you're gonna cook anymore. It's getting annoying. Frankly, I don't give a shit if any of these guys get a decent meal, but the captain seems to think that maybe you could give me a few… pointers in the kitchen." He grated out the last part, obviously not fond of admitting that he might need help.

Sara goggled at the big man. "Me? You want me to show you how to cook?" she asked, dazed.

Slade glowered. "Not me. Felicity. Now come on kid, dinner's in a couple of hours. The sooner it's over with, the sooner I can go to bed."

Charlie, who had been quietly grooming himself, looked up when he heard the irritation in his master's voice. "Fuck off!" he trilled, launching himself off the bedpost and landing neatly on Slade's shoulder. "More rum! More rum!"

Slade reached into his pockets and pulled out some crackers. "Shut up, bird," he said, shoving a few of them into the bird's beak.

Slade rose unsteadily. Not sure whether she wanted to be pleased that the others enjoyed her cooking or terrified of the surly cook, she walked to Slade's side, casting a half-fearful glance up at the big man.

Oliver, seeing her discomfort, smiled reassuringly. "It's all right, Sara. Slade's bark is worse than his bite."

Slade snorted and turned to leave, pushing Sara in front of him.

"I'll see you at dinner then, Captain." Oliver said quietly, noting how Slade's shoulders stiffened with the title.

"Don't ever call me that," he hissed. "I gave that bullshit up a long time ago, right about the time that fucking doctor was sawing off my leg." He shot Oliver an angry glare. "I wouldn't go mentioning it around here, either, Queen, unless you want another ass-kicking, courtesy of your old captain."

Oliver frowned at the door as Slade slammed it, wondering why the hell his former captain was the cook aboard a pirate ship. He slumped back down onto his chair, staring at the chessboard but not really seeing it. Why was Slade Wilson here? Just what the hell had he just stumbled into?

* * *

Barry Allen wasn't smiling now. In fact, he looked concerned. He didn't need the spyglass to confirm what his two eyes were showing him: dark clouds loomed on the horizon, a storm was approaching.

Instead of clanging the bell to call whoever was on watch, he scurried down the ratlines and went in search of his captain.

Felicity wasn't particularly hard to find. She was holed up with Diggle in her quarters, fighting with him. Their argument came out in bits and pieces, Diggle's angry voice questioned his captain's judgment on something. Felicity responded with thinly veiled anger. Whatever they were fighting about, she made it perfectly clear that she would not be dissuaded.

Barry didn't bother with knocking. He burst in, interrupting Felicity mid-tirade.

"What's wrong, Barry?" Felicity demanded sharply, immediately having sensed his tension.

"There's a bad storm brewing afore, Captain," he said in a rush.

Felicity cursed and rushed out of the room, Diggle and Barry following close on her heels. She clambered up the narrow stairs, almost afraid to see what was brewing topside. Sin was waiting for her at the top of the steps, but she brushed past her, too worried about the weather to bother with conversation. She strode across the deck to the bow of the ship and stood with her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

Her coat flapped in the strong wind that was scuttling across the deck of the ship and her hair danced as though it were alive. She stood silently for a long while, staring at the gathering storm as though she could read its intentions.

Diggle, understanding that their argument was on hold until the current crisis was dealt with, went and stood by his captain, waiting for her orders. "All hands on deck, John," she said absently, still engrossed with the sky.

Diggle nodded and yelled out the command. Barry went below decks to alert the rest of the crew and Sin echoed Diggle's command across the deck.

Within minutes, the crew was gathered, looking nervously from the sky to their captain, knowing that trouble was coming.

"All hands assembled, Captain," Diggle said quietly.

Felicity nodded, her eyes still searching the approaching darkness. After a long moment, she spoke up. "Men, this is going to be an ugly one. Secure your lifelines first and then begin preparations."

The sailors murmured between themselves as they rushed to secure themselves to the masts of the ship with lengths of rope.

Felicity didn't bother with such preparations. Instead, she continued her vigil at the prow. Diggle approached her a moment later, a thick rope wrapped snugly around his waist. Another rope was clutched in his hand that he offered to his captain.

"Don't want you blowin' off the ship, Felicity," he said, handing her the rope. She took it and smiled.

"Don't worry about me, John. If I die, it will be on this ship, like my mother and my father."

"Humor me," he said sternly.

She wrapped the rope around her waist and secured it with a strong knot. "There."

He nodded.

"The wind's changed direction." She noted. Indeed, it was now blowing her hair away from her face so strongly, that she nearly feared that it would all be ripped from her scalp.

He didn't reply, knowing that she was talking more to herself than to him.

"This seems familiar." Another voice said from behind them. Both Felicity and Diggle turned to find Oliver, a slightly strained smile on his face.

Felicity frowned. "Captain, given that you so recently survived a shipwreck, do you think it's wise for you to be on deck?" she asked, her voice concerned.

Oliver's smile broadened. "I'm heartened by your concern, Captain. But I'm fine. What's a shipwreck or two to a sailor?"

Felicity's frown disappeared and she almost smiled. "Diggle, find an extra lifeline for the Captain here," she said, waving a hand in Oliver's direction. He nodded and went in search of more rope.

"You seem almost unnaturally calm," Oliver observed.

Felicity shrugged. "I've spent almost my entire life on this ship, Captain. I trust her to protect me."

Diggle returned and handed Oliver a length of rope. "I don't think you want to be dunked twice in one month, Captain," he said. Oliver thanked him and secured the rope around his waist.

Felicity turned away from the storm and eyed her crew. "Batten down, men!" she shouted. They scurried about, securing the rigging.

The wind became fiercer, whipping the water into frothing, rabid waves that slapped the ship hard enough to make it shudder. The first few fat drops of rain hit the deck, preceding the rest of the storm, which was not far behind.

"Lie to, men!" she yelled, giving her crew the order to stop the ship's progress. "Lying to" meant that the sails would be turned so that they were working against each other, causing the ship to move forward and then back in a holding pattern to wait out the storm.

"Secure your lifelines and watch those sails!" she shouted. "This one is going to be nasty!" It was as though her words gave the storm permission to strike. The wind became almost hurricane like in its speed and intensity, driving the rain against the crew like tiny knives. Felicity continued to shout orders at her men, but her voice was drowned out by the howling of the wind and the sound of the water crashing against the ship.

The men struggled to move against the wind, their duties as well-known to them as their own names. Some struggled with the sails, working their hardest to keep the ship from moving off from its course, others kept careful watch of the lifelines, ensuring that none of their crewmates would be lost to the sea. Roy stood at the helm, fighting against the steering wheel, which wanted to spin freely and send them into oblivion. The rest of the crew scurried about, each with a singular purpose whose ultimate goal was to keep the Aurora afloat.

A wave rose higher than the ship and crashed down onto the deck, the force of the impact knocking Felicity and Oliver into the railing, their lifelines pulling taut and then snapping them back.

Oliver wiped the seawater from his eyes and saw Felicity kneeling on the deck, a trickle of blood coming from her mouth.

"Are you all right?" he yelled, pulling his way towards him. She couldn't hear his question over the storm, but she recognized his expression and nodded, pushing herself upright and swiping the blood off of her mouth.

Before he could come any closer, another wave broke over the deck and they were separated, as far apart as their lifelines would allow. Despite their distance and the roar of the angry sea, Oliver still heard Felicity's cry of alarm. He followed her line of sight and gasped.

Barry's rope had not been secure enough and the last wave had ripped it free of the mast. Nothing stopped Barry's body as it was flung headlong towards the sea. Quick thinking on his part had saved his life, although it seemed not for long. He dangled precariously off the prow, holding on for dear life, each punishing blow of the sea weakening his grip on the slippery wood.

Felicity began pulling herself towards him, fighting against the rain and the wind. Oliver followed her example, both of them inching their way towards the front of the ship. Felicity reached the front first and tried to climb up on the railing, but her lifeline stopped her. It was not long enough to allow her to climb up onto the prow to rescue Barry.

She cursed. Oliver realized her dilemma as soon as he pulled himself next to her.

"We can't reach him!" Oliver yelled.

Felicity cursed again. "I have never lost a man to the sea and I'm not going to start now!" she yelled, pulling her sword free of its sheath.

Oliver's eyes widened and he shouted for her to stop, reaching for her to grab the sword from her hand, but he was too late. Deftly, she severed her lifeline, the rope pulled so taut that as she cut herself free, it sprang back towards the mast where it was secured as though it was made of rubber. Turning, she smiled at him as she plunged the sword into the deck.

"I'll be right back!" she yelled and climbed out onto the prow, one hand holding onto her sword handle, the other stretching towards where Barry still clung.

Barry reached, his fingertips brushing hers, still too far for her to reach. She stretched further, her grip on the sword handle slipping. Oliver caught her hand as it was about to slip, holding on to her hand with both of his.

She looked up at him and nodded briefly before turning her attention back to her sailor. With the few precious extra inches Oliver gave her, she was able to grasp Barry's hand and begin to pull him up. As he came closer, he was able to completely let go of the prow and grab onto her arm with both his hands. Meanwhile, Oliver struggled to pull them both back onto the deck.

Felicity and Barry spilled onto the deck like freshly caught fish, both gasping for breath. Diggle appeared with Felicity's severed lifeline in his hand and a dark expression on his face. "What were you thinking?!" he yelled, barely audible over the storm. "You could have died!"

Felicity waved him off and grabbed her lifeline, deftly wrapping it around Barry's waist and knotting it tight before anyone quite registered what she had done.

Diggle's eyes widened and he geared up to give her another lecture.

She cut him off. "Diggle! Go and help the men before the storm carries them off!" she yelled, pointing to where a group of men fought to keep the square sails that rested beneath the top gallants from flying away. Diggle glared at her a final time and then rushed to help the men, Barry following close behind, thanking his captain even as he ran.

Before Felicity could attend to her own safety, another wave rose up over the railings and crashed onto the deck, fast moving water sweeping everything in its path over the side and into the sea. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fully expecting to be swept overboard.

Instead of being caught up in an icy shock of water, she found herself wrapped in a warm embrace, her face pressed into damp wool. She opened her eyes and stared at the black coat of her savior. Captain Oliver Queen had saved her, again.

She could hear the quick beat of his heart, feel how his chest rose and fell with each gasping breath. When he spoke to her, his words seemed to rumble in her ears.

"Are you all right?" he asked, pulling away enough so he could see her face.

She nodded. "That's twice now you've saved my life," she said.

He smiled and she noticed that his violet eyes had gold flecks in them.

"Then I suppose we're even," he said seriously, although his eyes still smiled.

She shook her head. "No, I only saved your life once. Now I owe you," she replied with equal seriousness.

"Well then, I suppose you're right, Captain Smoak," he said, his grip tightening on her ever so very slightly.

She raised an eyebrow. "I suppose we shouldn't be so formal anymore. You may call me Felicity, if you'd like."

His smile was back. "Only if you call me Oliver."

She nodded. "Oliver it is."

He made no move to let her go and she did not seem interested in pulling away, instead, they looked at each other, scarcely aware that around them, the storm was abating.


	5. Chapter 5

******Maybe There's Enough Blue Skies**

**Chapter 5**

Felicity held the cold compress to her mouth and winced. Her lower lip was swollen and still slightly bloody. Carly had tried to help her, but Felicity had sent her away to look after the rest of the crew. All she had was a bloody lip; lord only knew how the rest of her men had fared. She frowned, ignoring the brief twinge of pain when she moved her lips, and stared out the multi-paned windows that encompassed the entire back wall of her quarters. The sky was still gray, but the clouds were no longer ominous, having dumped their contents and moved on.

Felicity wasn't particularly concerned with the weather anymore. She had other things to be worried about. In fact, she was consumed with worries. Worries about her ship and crew, worries about their new passenger and her conflicting feelings in regards to him, worries about their chances of catching up with the Marauder now that the storm had slowed their progress and worries about her fight with Diggle. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass and closed her eyes, wishing, for a brief moment, that she was simply a girl with silly concerns about dresses and boys and dances.

"Felicity?" Roy tapped on her doorframe.

She banished such useless thoughts from her mind and turned to face her navigator. "Well? Have we lost him?

Roy shook his head. "Not if we keep the wind in our sails," he replied. "The storm only delayed us a little bit and we managed to stay on course."

She leaned back against her windows and smiled. "Good. Go up top and keep a watch over whoever is at the helm. Make sure they keep us going at our current rate of speed."

He nodded once and left, she could hear his footsteps echo as he made his way to the deck.

One less worry. She dropped the compress onto her unmade bed and shrugged on a dry coat. She needed to find Diggle so they could finish their argument about Oliver. And then she needed to find Oliver and… she frowned. What exactly would she do when she found Oliver? Her fingers fumbled over her coat buttons. Oliver Queen was a problem. He was a captain in the Imperial Navy, a man well known for his dedication to his post. What would he do when he found out what her plans were?

She remembered how warm he had been as he held her on the sea-swept deck of her ship, how strong he had felt… how his eyes had seemed fathomless. She shook her head and straightened her coat. It was useless to run around swooning like a schoolgirl. Even if they had an uneasy truce now, their relationship in the future could be nothing but adversarial.

She strapped her sword around her waist and went in search of her first mate.

She knew something was wrong the minute she saw the crowd around Oliver's private cabin. Her men were whispering among themselves as they watched some drama unfolding from within the room. She heard the sound of two men arguing. Diggle's deep growl followed by Oliver's lower, angry voice. She scowled and pushed into the crowd. When the men saw who was shoving them, they immediately parted to allow her through. She made it to the door and her eyes narrowed.

Diggle was standing with a dark look on his face, his pistol aimed at Oliver, who was holding a sword level with the other man's chest. Oliver's expression was calm, neutral, but Diggle was clearly angry.

"Like I would fucking trust one of you Navy bastards!" Diggle spat, cocking the hammer of his gun.

"John!" Felicity growled. "Stand down! Now!" She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword and leveled him with a merciless gaze.

Both men looked at her in surprise.

"Felicity… I was just…" He began to explain but she cut him off.

"Shut up! We talked about this! I told you to do nothing!" She turned to the men gathered in the hallway. "Don't you all have a ship to fix?" she asked darkly. The men scattered, leaving the three of them alone.

"Lower your weapons, both of you," she said quietly. Oliver immediately sheathed his sword, but Diggle hesitated. "Goddamn it, John, if you don't put that gun down right now, I swear I will put it down for you." She drew her sword and pointed it at him.

He reluctantly lowered his weapon. She strode into the room and yanked it out of his hand, sticking it into her belt. "I told you not to do anything." She said, sheathing her sword. "I asked you to trust me."

The older man scowled. "And I told you that we can't trust him! He's one of THEM!"

Felicity shook her head slowly. "Just trust me, okay? He's not like the others."

"How do you know?" Diggle shot back.

Felicity hung her head for a moment, seeming to be contemplating something. When she looked up, her eyes were cold, her mouth set in a firm line. "John Diggle, if you do not leave this room right now and return to duty, then I will have no choice but to throw you into the brig. You have no right and no authority to question my judgments. Am I clear?"

Diggle slumped. "Crystal," he muttered. He shot Oliver one final glare and left the cabin, slamming the door in his wake.

"What was that all about?" Oliver asked, slightly bewildered.

Felicity sighed and turned to face him. "John's adopted father committed suicide when he was about ten or so." She chewed on her tender lower lip for a moment before continuing. "He was a lawyer and a social activist who made himself rather unpopular by criticizing the Navy and its policies. So, certain members of the Admiralty made sure that his life was completely and utterly ruined. He killed himself because of all the negative publicity and such."

Oliver sat down heavily on his bed. "James Diggle."

Felicity nodded, surprised. "How did you know?" She asked. "You couldn't have been in the Navy when that happened…"

Oliver shook his head. "I was, actually. Just barely enlisted, a scullery boy, but I heard the story. It was whispered about, a warning to anyone who dared oppose His Majesty's Navy. I had no idea that John was James Diggle's adopted son. No wonder he hates me. I represent everything he despises."

Felicity sank down next to him. "He's afraid that you will betray us," she said, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.

Oliver frowned. "Hardly a fitting way to repay you for saving my life and Sara's," he said. "You don't have to worry about me. Just drop us off at the nearest port and be done with all of this."

Felicity nodded again. "Of course, but we have to make a brief stop, first."

Oliver straightened and looked at her with alarm. "When a pirate says they need to make a brief stop, it generally isn't just to pick up some groceries," he said uneasily.

She laughed, just a trace too forced.

Oliver looked her square in the eyes. "What are you going to do?"

Her smile vanished. "Nothing for you to concern yourself with," she answered stiffly.

He raked his hand through his hair. "Well now, that concerns me," he replied.

Felicity bit her lip again, and tried to come up with a way to keep him from finding out too much, something to distract him. She hit upon an idea that caused a slight flush to creep up her neck. She couldn't, no… she wasn't that type of girl.

"Felicity? What are you planning to do?" He was looking at her with a troubled expression. She wasn't entirely sure how much they could trust him, no matter what she told Diggle. She had to keep him from finding anything out for the time being. After they had rescued Thea, then she'd spill everything. What had her father always said? It was better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

"Oh hell," she muttered and turned to him. Without allowing herself any time to think about what she was going to do, she reached forward, grabbed his face between her hands and kissed him square on the mouth. If this didn't distract him, nothing would.

He gasped in surprise as she slanted her lips across his and she took the opportunity to run her tongue along his bottom lip. For a few long moments, he didn't respond. Then, just as she was getting worried that she had made a huge mistake, he pulled her into his lap and began returning the favor, with interest.

The next few moments went by in a pleasurable blur of lips and tongues and hands. She was so completely distracted that she didn't even care that her lower lip was protesting. Then, quite suddenly, Oliver shifted and somehow, Felicity found herself flat on her back, the mattress beneath her and Oliver looming above her. In a split second, she had lost control of the situation.

His dark violet eyes were narrowed on her flushed face and he stared at her for a long moment, thoughtfully. Worried, she raised her hands to bring him back down into kissing range, but he grabbed a hold of her wrists before she could. "Wait." He said, his voice low and slightly husky.

"What's wrong?" She asked, trying her best to appear winsome and welcoming.

He took a deep breath and smiled at her slightly, letting go of her wrists. "Nice try." He said, wagging a finger at her. "But you didn't answer my question."

She scowled and pushed him off, leaping out of the bed like it was on fire. What was wrong with him? Most men would have been much more interested in getting her out of her pants than finding out what she was plotting. She smoothed her rumpled jacket and checked to make sure her hair was in decent shape. She felt oddly upset, like she had been rejected. Wasn't she beautiful enough to distract him?

He sat on the bed, waiting for her to answer, his arms crossed.

Finally, the oppressive silence was too much for Felicity. She whirled around and threw her hands up. "You want to know? Fine. We're going to waylay a ship and rescue a friend of mine."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What ship?"

"The Marauder." She replied haughtily.

"Walter Steele's ship? Are you insane or just stupid?" he asked incredulously.

"Neither," she snapped.

He frowned. "Felicity, it's either one or the other. I know Steele. He'd rather take a bullet himself than let a crew of pirates aboard his precious ship. You'll never make it off the Marauder alive."

She shook her head stubbornly. "Perhaps that would be true if I planned on engaging him in combat, but since I don't, I rather think our chances are good."

"Tell me then, how exactly are you going to board his ship without him noticing? Do you have some sort of magic that makes you invisible?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Just about," she replied archly. "Don't you worry about us, Captain Queen. It's not as though we've never done this sort of thing before. Just mind your business and we'll mind ours. Agreed?"

Oliver slumped slightly. "So it's back to Captain Queen again?" he asked quietly.

"Agreed?" she asked again, ignoring his last remark.

He stood up and looked at her with an inscrutable expression on his face. "I suppose there is nothing I can say that will change your mind then?" he murmured.

She shook her head.

He sighed. "Agreed. I'll keep my nose out of it. Just…" he trailed off.

"Just what?" she asked waspishly.

Gently, he reached forward and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Just don't get hurt," he said quietly, his fingers trailing across her cheek before dropping away.

She stared at him and saw something in his eyes that she found both frightening and exciting at the same time. Without saying a word, she turned and left his cabin quickly, slamming the door hard behind her.

What was he playing at? She stormed as she marched down the narrow hall. Why did he look at her like that? And why did she like it? This situation was fast spinning out of her control. "Argh! Why didn't I leave that barnacle in the sea?!" She exclaimed out loud. A few of her crew that were passing stopped and stared at her in alarm.

"Captain? Are you all right?" Sin asked anxiously.

Felicity stood up straight and flipped her hair over her shoulder in a move of false confidence. "I'm fine, Sin, just occupied. Now go about your work," she said irritably.

Alarmed, she and the two men with her nodded and scurried out of her way. Nothing good ever came of being around the captain when she was in_ that_ kind of mood.

Felicity stomped up to the deck and waved Shado off the helm. "Go and see if John has some work for you. I'll steer this old bucket," she said, still terribly annoyed.

Shado nodded and quickly left the helm, shooting a look at Roy that seemed to say '_Look out, she's in one of her moods_.' Roy acknowledged with a small nod.

"Everything all right, Captain?" Roy asked, moving from the railing to where she stood, her hands clutching the wheel like it stood between her and death.

"Fine. Just fucking fine," she replied through clenched teeth.

"How did your talk go with Captain Queen?" he asked offhandedly, but though his voice was neutral, his eyes had picked up several interesting tidbits of information.

She looked back at him, surprised. "How did you…?"

"You just missed Diggle," he said by way of an answer.

She frowned and turned her attention back to the sea.

"Did he not like your plan?" Roy quizzed, enjoying his rare opportunity to torment his captain.

"He was adverse to the idea," she replied.

"I see. It does appear as though he had quite a violent reaction to it," he murmured, rocking back and forth on his heels, his hands clasped behind him and a tiny smile on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Felicity snapped.

"Three of your buttons are undone and it looks as though you have a bruise on your neck," he replied, his smile growing a bit broader.

Mortified, Felicity's hands flew first to her shirt and then clapped over her neck. "I, um, fell, Harper. That's all."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "You fell onto his mouth?"

Felicity stomped her foot, a rather juvenile way of venting her anger and frustration that she had never quite grown out of. "Harper!" she shrieked.

He smirked. "It was rather hard to resist, Felicity," he replied archly. "Think of it as payback."

She pointed a shaking finger at him. "You're lucky I don't put you in the brig!" she squeaked.

He shrugged, smirking.

She stomped past him, headed for her quarters to button her shirt and find a scarf. "One word of this to anyone, Harper, and I'll send you straight overboard with a cannonball attached to your leg, got it?" she hissed.

He saluted smartly. "Aye, captain."

She stormed off the deck and, a few moments later, he heard her door slam. He grinned and took a hold of the wheel. Revenge was quite satisfying.

* * *

Thea stood at the railing of the Marauder and heaved her guts out. She was quite surprised she had anything left, frankly. She was fairly certain that she had surrendered everything she had eaten that day and possibly the day before that to the sea. She had absolutely no tolerance for the kind of violent to and fro movement that a ship besieged by a storm could make. She rested her head on the smooth wood and gulped in fresh air, hoping she was through.

"Not an experienced sailor, are you lass?" A deep voiced boomed over her shoulder.

She turned, half expecting to see Captain Steele. But the man standing behind her was not the unpleasant captain. It was the other passenger who had come on with her, a Navy man, the only person save Moira that Thea had ever seen Steele be polite to. It took her a few moments to come up with his name. Not surprising since she hadn't seen him since almost the first day she had boarded the Marauder. He had taken meals in his quarters and rarely left it.

"Commodore Merlyn, it is a rare thing to see you about." She said, steadying herself on the railing.

He smiled and she revised her opinion of him. Although his smile was nice, there was nothing behind it and the effect was more chilling than comforting.

"I do not like to spend too much time rubbing elbows with the unwashed masses," he said disdainfully, waving a pristinely white-gloved hand in the direction of a knot of crewmembers currently engaged in repairing sails damaged in the storm.

She almost frowned but held it back, remembering who he was, but she could not resist a small comment. "It is rather odd that a Navy man would have no patience for his fellows," she replied.

His smile faded. "I do not consider those…" He paused to find a proper word for the crew, "filthy things to be my fellows or peers. They just help make the ship move. They are rather like sails, really. Terribly useful, but easily replaced."

This time she did frown. "I'm sorry, I don't share your opinion of this crew. They seem like fine men to me," she said quietly. "I bid you good day, Commodore." She bowed slightly and beat a hasty retreat, vastly relieved to be out of his unpleasant presence.

She hoped the Aurora hadn't been held up or damaged by the storm. She could only pray that Felicity made it in time, the alternative was unthinkable.


End file.
